


Gardens in the Morning

by orphan_account



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, DON'T SHIP REAL PEOPLE, Eventual Smut, Gay Panic, Heartbreak, Kings & Queens, M/M, Oblivious, Princes & Princesses, Slow Burn, grian is a fae, like real life magick that real life witches use, love potions, magick, minecraft personas ONLY, so tw for that i guess idk, theres magick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Most people would say that being royalty is comparable to being, well, royalty. But, there are always things to consider with royal families, especially the children and their lack of freedom. The middle prince, Mumbo, is bound to get sick of this useless protection and takes it upon himself to explore the world he's never been allowed in. What will Mumbo think when he's presented with the thing he's been sworn to never interact within his entire life, and what will happen when he falls in love with an outlaw who should have died the moment he was born?[This work is always being edited and updated, as I always come up with ideas and better wording after I publish, but I will never change major plot details in these minor updates!]
Relationships: Grian/Mumbo Jumbo, lots of minor ships - Relationship
Comments: 39
Kudos: 131





	1. Prologue

As the beautiful evening sun shone through the cathedral windows, painting the simple walls in harmonious colors, a party roared in the belly of the cathedral, an invitation of life and happiness to the kingdom’s newest royal, a little boy named Mumbo. Mumbo’s mother, a petite woman with short brown hair, cuddled her newborn close as her three-year-old son, named Iskall, peered into the empty bassinet, more concerned about when he could get some cake and leave than his new baby brother. His father, a taller man with a noticeable goatee, smiled blindingly as his subjects came to bless their newborn with health and prosperity. Nobody would have suspected the raggedy woman peering from around the corner, blood-stained hands and a plan currently being executed. 

The king held his wife close as he clapped his hands, signaling all conversations to cease and listen to the king’s address. “Thank you all. I much appreciate you all coming to bestow your aspirations upon mine and my wife’s little one here, Mumbo. Truly, we do indeed appreciate you all presenting yourselves at such an inopportune time, we truly thought that this get together would happen a few weeks into the new year, but here we are at the beginnings of snowfall.” A maid rushed over, setting a champagne glass into the royal’s hands. “Now, I believe it is in order that we raise our glasses in a toast to the newest member of the royal family, Mumbo!” 

The king held his hand and his champagne glass in the air, and everyone in the cathedral followed suit, save the queen and her two sons. The cathedral was alive once again, conversations afoot and well-wishers coming to place their blessings on the small bundle in the queen's arms. The queen set her son into the bassinet, cooing at him before she went to get her own glass of champagne. All was well. Until a loud bang came from around the corner. 

The king shoved his wife down, following her as their royal guard formed a barrier around them, protecting them from any danger, but forgot to consider the youngest member of the family, who was now crying at the upsetting noise. A woman dressed in green fabrics and brown leathers waltzed into the cathedral main hall from behind the corner, all eyes on her as she strutted up the bundle in the bassinet and chuckled, tracing a finger down his soft face. The queen cried out, flinging herself at her son’s bassinet, only to be kicked down by the intruding woman. 

“Pathetic,” the woman hissed, returning to the baby. She was immediately seized by two guards, who dragged her to the king’s feet. 

“What is your business here, you vile creature.” the king spat. The woman looked into his eyes, wildly. 

“Don’t call me that. The only reason why I’m here is because of what you did.”

The king smirked. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you could be possibly talking about.”

The woman growled. “You killed my son for no reason other than my family’s lines back three hundred years. I’m not the one who killed the king of that age, yet I am the one punished for it. So, you now shall see yourself punished.” The king’s eyes widened, looking wildly at his wife and newborn. “I haven’t poisoned either of them, although it was tempting. But I wanted something that would last much longer and dig much, much deeper.” The woman struggled to hold up her hands, the blood now beginning to dry. “This blood comes from that of my son, the one you killed so long ago. You killed him, simply because he was a witch. So, I have fed the magick blood to your precious son. In eighteen year’s time, you shall see a resurgence of magickal energy in this kingdom, and the only way to rid of it will be to kill your own son, which I know is almost impossible for one to do themselves. You will have to think, your highness, have this wretch of a son walking around the castle, maybe one day in charge of the entire kingdom with his bastard magick ways, or will you kill him off the second he sees an aura? I’m sad to say I’ll never see.” The woman chuckled, twisting a pill loose from her teeth as she snapped her jaw onto the pill. Cyanide poured into her mouth, and not even a minute later, her corpse lay on the ground, skin going gray as her magickal abilities faded. 

As guards dragged her body away, the queen wept as she wiped the blood from her son’s face, thinking that this was all a nightmare but knowing it was all too real. The king found his eldest son hiding beneath a table, crying, and took him into his arms as he hugged his wife, the shock in the room finally starting to take hold as people realized what had just happened, and silently began to weep for the newborn prince. 

It wouldn't be a few more years until a blond boy with blue shifting wings would emerge from the artificial womb his mom had built three years prior. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First fic on here, based on an independent novel I've been developing irl. Hope you all like it!


	2. Chapter 1

“We have already had this conversation, Mumbo. I simply cannot allow you to venture beyond the confines of this castle. You are to stay within the borders of our land unless you have a personal guard with you.” The King knew what his son was wishing so dearly for, but he could not allow his son the freedom he wanted. 

“But father, why not? I have already come of age and I believe a man like me needs to see the world without constant guarding! I'm not going to die the second I go somewhere without someone watching me!” Mumbo sighed as his father gave him a look of disappointment, and the King turned away, going back to scribble signatures on a stack of papers. Truly, all the prince wanted to see was what the world looked like without the walls and guards. He didn’t want to live in the forest, but his parents had always been more protective of him than his brothers. After all, the straight lines of fruit trees and rose bushes could not compare to the wild and abundant foliage that Mumbo could see from his balcony. He yearned to let himself exist within that vegetation, soaking up what little light poked through the thick canopy of leaves and branches. 

“This way, Prince Mumbo,” he heard from the corner of the room. Mumbo turned to see his personal guard, a man who was known for being allowed to keep his hair long and in a ponytail, really the only royal guard allowed to do that because of his status and importance to the family. He had been watching Mumbo since the Prince was a small child, and his guard was still a child himself but needed work to help his family. The King took pity on the young boy, and hired him to protect the Prince that would most likely need the least amount of protection, as he was not the heir to the throne, but he was also not the weakest of the princes. Mumbo sighed and followed the beckoning guard, eager to get out of his father’s office, the stone bricks seemingly trying to swallow him whole. As they walked down the red-carpeted hall, sunlight beaming in through the large stained windows, Mumbo couldn’t help but look out them, staring into the pine forest that wrapped around the back of the castle, separated only by a thick line of fruit trees. As he stared, Mumbo could see some movement behind the fruit trees, only catching a glimpse of something light blue or white before it disappeared, obscured by the large forest pines. Mumbo cocked an eyebrow before shrugging, probably an albino deer, as many of them lived in the forest as a sanctuary. 

“Seriously, Prince Mumbo, I wouldn’t take what your father says as gospel all the time. He isn’t trying to be cruel towards you, he’s just trying to protect you because of the-”  


“Yeah, I know. The ‘curse’,” Mumbo held up air quotes as he spoke. Nothing had happened yet and he personally believed that his parents were overreacting. His mother, the queen, always refused to tell him just what had happened on that day, and his older brother Iskall was too young to remember anything. His younger brother, Xisuma, wasn't even born yet, but if he had been he would have been locked away in the medical bay, he practically lived there until he was about six years old. But his father was not afraid to tell him of the wretched woman who poured cursed blood down his throat and vowed that he shall be a curse to the kingdom. His father made the tale sound like something out of a fantasy novel written back when people had nothing better to do than pretend. “But seriously, nothing has happened yet! Surely, since my birthday celebration, something should have happened by now,” Mumbo huffed. His personal guard sighed. 

“I know Prince Mumbo, but we can never be too careful, especially with what they did eons ago.” His guard pointed at the Prince’s wrist, where a golden mark in the shape of a pentagram shone. Mumbo flexed his wrist, allowing it to reflect just a little more light than usual, before pulling his sleeve down more to cover the mark. 

“Sir Ren, you may retire to your post. I am not in need of your services for the rest of tonight.” Mumbo turned on his heel before walking back down the hallway, planning to take a short walk to clear his mind. The short walk soon turned into pacing the hallway that he and his brothers shared, brain swimming as he considered just how unfair his life truly was. His older brother, Iskall, was to rule the kingdom one day, whether he liked it or not. Mumbo and his younger brother, Xisuma, were cursed to only following in Iskall’s footsteps, always to be seen as the underlings to what could have been theirs if Iskall wasn’t the eldest or the fittest to be king, as he was the only one without a curse or handicap of some kind. Of course, there was the story of Iskall's eye... 

Xisuma was born with a completely collapsed lung, so he was confined to an oxygen machine, requiring a large metal mask to cover the lower half of his face at all times. Due to this, he was seen as weak, and an easy target, so he was also heavily guarded and discouraged to be king. Of course, for him to be king, both Mumbo and Iskall would either have to give up the crown or both be… forcefully removed from the position. Mumbo sighed, bringing his hands to his face and he leaned against his door. Dropping his hands, he huffed, charged into his room, and began to scheme. He was going into that forest, without a guard, no matter what it took. 

-

Falling asleep early was the easy part, even if he did miss dinner. Waking up early, before the sun had even appeared into the horizon, was the hard part. Mumbo sat up, stomach rumbling and regretting his decisions a bit, before remembering what he was doing, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and jumping out of bed. Surely, if his plans were to remain hidden, he couldn’t just walk out the wide front gates, so Mumbo decided to try and sneak out from his terrace. The previous night, he hadn't even bothered to change from his suit, and the fabric was wrinkled and bunched around Mumbo's joints. Mumbo pulled on his shoes and ran out to the balcony that accompanied his bedroom. He scurried down the attached rose-covered trellis, cleverly avoiding the thorns and almost falling off when he had about two meters left until the ground. Luckily, Mumbo stayed attached to the trellis, and as soon as his feet touched the ground, he ducked low, making sure none of the nearby guards had heard his near-stumble or his contact with the rocks at the base of the trellis.

After assuring that his coast was clear, he walked over to the line of fruit trees, keeping his body low and stopping every time he heard any sort of noise that insinuated it was movement. He wasn’t going to take any chances at all. His heartbeat was in his ears and his heart felt like it was going to jump through his own throat, he was so nervous that he would be caught going against his father's orders. 

Once he had gotten past the thick line of fruit trees, he resumed walking normally. No sense in sneaking when the guards wouldn’t care about anything past the fruit trees anyways, nobody could even get in the walls of the kingdom, let alone the sacred refuge forest. The only things that would come from the office were the plentiful deer, which would be promptly led back to the forest like puppies, following the scent of apple back to their rightful home. 

Finally taking a deep breath and stabilizing his heartbeat, Mumbo trudged deep into the forest, finally being able to take in its full beauty without it being obscured by the guards he always seemed to have around him. 

The rich pine trees swayed lightly with the harsh winds that whipped their branches around. Some melting snow remained on the ground still, only surviving by the thick canopy that protected it from the sun. Mumbo laughed, as it had easily been a month since the last snowfall. Out of the corner of his eye, Mumbo saw a deer, but not just any deer, an albino fawn. Albino deer were special to this kingdom, as a few were brought into the kingdom walls a few generations ago and had just expanded from there, easily over five hundred now roaming the forests and gravel paths of the associated kingdom. The albino deer population was nearly identical to the number of normal whitetails that occupied the forest. Nearby, a small family of squirrels was chattering, most likely just coming out of their den for the first time since the snow stopped. 

While watching the squirrels, Mumbo heard a slight ruffling from behind him, and with the shock finally wearing away that he was in the forest alone, he followed the sound. Dead leaves leftover from the previous fall crunched under his feet as he chased the sound, gradually picking up speed with slight pauses to hear where the ruffling had gone. The ruffling led him down a steep hill, Mumbo sliding down and grabbing onto a tree for support when he slipped on a snow patch. When the ruffling stopped, Mumbo noticed a faint, golden glow in the forest, hidden by another steep drop. When Mumbo had reached the ledge before the steep dropoff, he saw a quaint, little wooden and stone cottage, tucked away behind some trees with a garden in full bloom. The golden glow surrounded the cottage, flooding the surrounding area with a feeling of love and being where he belongs. Mumbo went light-headed from the intensity of the feeling, but it only added to his adrenaline and need to get closer to the building. 

‘Wait a minute,’ Mumbo thought, “didn’t father tell me that auras were a form of magick? This seems like what an aura is, based on what I read in that captured grimoire.” Mumbo had been sneaking nights in the restricted area of the royal library, reading about magick from a captured grimoire from a witch over two hundred years ago. He figured that some of the magick mentioned was out of date, but then again, he didn't know a whole lot about magick anyways. Mumbo couldn't help but assume that magick changed and evolved just like everything else in the world. Mumbo thought about heading back, but as he was about to turn around, he saw a flash of white and heard a loud meow come from just to his right. He turned and saw a gray cat, who approached him as it seemingly stared into his soul. Mumbo squatted and put his hand out to the cat, and the cat sniffed his hand before turning around and jumping down the ledge towards the cottage. 

Mumbo prepared to scale his way down the drop, but just as he was about to start making his way down, he felt a hard hit on the side of his head. He cursed and brought his hand to where he had been struck, turning to see what had hit him only to reveal a boy, with tanned skin, large eyes, and a pair of antlers just above his ears. He also, surprisingly, had legs similar to a goat or deer from the hips down. He was shaking and held what looked to be a club, made of twisting wood and some leaves. Mumbo could only question for a second before he was hit a second time, causing his vision to fade to black as he fell to the ground, the world disappearing around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy with the love that this received! I'll definitely make sure to get out as much of this as I can. I also just graduated high school today, so I'll have loads more time to write and design for this book!


	3. Chapter 2

“Keralis! What did you just do?!” the blond boy yelped. Keralis dropped his club and brought his hands to his mouth, eyes wide in shock and slightly tearing up at the knowledge of what he had just done. The gray cat that the suited man had interacted with before was now sniffing his hair, scrunching his nose up before jumping onto his head. He stared down at the suited man, his face being squished into the ground by the gray cat. The blond grumbled and picked up the cat, only to put him down into Keralis’s arms. The hybrid shuffled nervously, feet digging up the coarse dirt and scratching the cat’s chin as he purred into Keralis’s chest. 

Keralis mumbled, “Grian, he scared me. I was just making sure he didn’t see you!” His eyes cast down towards his hooves. 

“That doesn’t mean you had to kill him!” Grian flashed his eyes back up at the hybrid, his face laced with concern. 

“He’s not dead, he’s still breathing!” 

Grian frowned. “Barely.” He sighed and hoisted up the man, managing to hook his elbows underneath the man’s shoulders. “Now I’ve got to nurse him back to health because you were stupid and had to hurt someone we don’t know!” Grian grunted as he started trying to move the man down to the cottage. His cheeks puffed as he breathed out, the seemingly slim man being much heavier than he thought. He quickly realized he would not be able to carry the man down to the cottage, so he set the man down and sat cross-legged by his head, staring at his face. 'I swear, I recognize him from somewhere... maybe a picture book from when I was young,' he thought. 

Grian's thoughts were interrupted as the gray cat in Keralis’s arms morphed from his feline self into his human self. A man with bright green eyes and brown streaked-gray hair took the cat's place, slightly adjusting the cannula that had shifted away from his nostrils. Keralis jumped back a bit, not expecting the cat he previously held to do that. Grian just rolled his eyes, bracing for the “dad” talk that he would surely get from the man. “What do you want, Scar,” Grian asked with the most monotonous voice his usually expressive self could muster. 

“Grian, I don’t recommend you nurse _any _man to health, especially not this man in particular,” Scar pointed down towards the unconscious man. Grian cocked his head to the side.__

____

____

“Why? Who is this man, Scar?” Grian swept some of the man's hair out of his face, knowing that nothing Scar said was going to change his mind about helping the man. 

“Grian, surely you know. This is Prince Mumbo, the middle child of the Koenig family, those who have been ruling over this land for over five hundred years,” Scar spread his arms and gestured at the entirety of the forest. "You were taught about how you should not trust him or his family since you were very young, some storybooks your mother left behind for you taught you that." Grian rolled his eyes again before he looked down at the Prince, Prince Mumbo still completely unconscious on the forest floor. Grian winced when he saw a faint bruise forming on his temple, which was definitely darker than it was before. 

“I have to help him. It would be worse to leave him out here. Now, Keralis, can you help me get him to the cottage?” Keralis nodded, grabbing the Prince by the back of his knees as Grian hooked his arms underneath the Prince's shoulders, and helped Grian get him onto the gravel path that was just outside of the rich garden, both almost falling down the steep ledge. After the royal was set down onto the cool stones and dirt, Keralis morphed back into his deer self and pranced off. Scar reluctantly turned back into his cat self, but instead of fleeing the scene, he stayed near Grian and the royal, his feline face somehow expressing extreme disappointment. Grian smiled slightly at the cat, before jogging into the cottage to begin boiling water, beginning to prepare some healing tea. If this was more serious, or fatal in some way, he’d be breaking out his health potions, but this didn’t seem too serious now that his own shock and adrenaline had worn off. Truly, it appeared to just be a bad hit to the head, bruising but no blood. Glancing out the open wooden door, he saw the cat simply staring at Prince Mumbo, seemingly waiting for him to stir from his force-induced slumber. 

While waiting for the water to boil, Grian pulled out his pendulum from a pocket on his leather corset. It was a simple triangular piece of quartz attached to a small chain and was exactly what Grian needed to ease his anxiety at the moment. He held it steady in one hand while hovering above his other, waiting for it to still completely before speaking aloud, "show me yes." The pendulum slowly started moving in slow clockwise circles, enough movement for Grian to identify it as legitimate and not just the wind or Grian's own hand movement. He stilled it again, and this time said "show me no," watching as the pendulum started going to side to side in straight lines. Grian steadied the pendulum, breathed out, and asked "can I trust Prince Mumbo?" The pendulum didn't move for a moment, before slowly moving in small circles, mimicking the 'yes' answer from before. Grian smiled a bit at this, tucking the pendulum back into the pocket and noticing that the water had begun to bubble. 

Grian walked out into the luscious garden and plucked some balm mint off of one of the many herb plants, and noticed that the sun was just coming over the horizon, beginning to paint his cottage in warm light. He smiled slightly at this, going back into the familiar cottage to crush the lemon balm leaves and place them into a sachet. He took the sachet and placed it into a large pewter mug, pouring the boiling water in. Grian grabbed a spoon and scooped some honey from a nearby honey jar onto it. He stirred it into the tea, speeding up the steeping process as well as making the tea just a bit sweeter. 

Grian was walking back into the garden when he heard a groan and saw Prince Mumbo begin to move, holding his head. The royal slowly sat up as he rubbed the site of the bruise. Grian scrunched up his face, feeling very sorry for the innocent royal. Grian kneeled down to the Prince’s level, and the royal opened his eyes for the first time since his blackout. The cat sauntered over and sat down in the royal’s lap. 

“Hey,” Grian whispered, waving shyly toward the royal. Prince Mumbo tensed a bit, looking Grian up and down. “It’s okay, I’m helping you. Uhm, I’m sorry my friend attacked you, by the way.” Grian awkwardly pushed the tea closer to the royal. “Here’s some tea for you, it’ll make you feel better, I promise.” Prince Mumbo looked at the mug with wide eyes, clearly not trusting the fae hybrid that was presenting him with a pewter mug full of golden liquid. 

Grian realized what the royal was thinking. “I promise, it’s not poisoned. Here, I’ll show you.” Grian took a small sip from the edge of the mug closest to his face, a faint golden glow coming over his neck as the tea worked its way down his throat. Prince Mumbo, once again, went wide-eyed, but gingerly took the mug from Grian’s hands, taking a small sip before swallowing more. Grian giggled as the royal’s entire neck was covered in the familiar golden glow, the glow following the tea down into his stomach. Grian sat by the royal awkwardly as he sipped the tea. 

Soon enough, the Prince had finished the tea and handed the empty mug back to Grian, who stood up to put it on the thick fence that surrounded the garden. Grian shyly looked down, his wings fluttering nervously before an idea popped into his head. He stared at Prince Mumbo’s head, assessing the injury and mainly the bruising, before rushing back into the cottage. 

Grian grabbed a small jar out of a cupboard, which was full of a clear liquid, and returned back to the garden. Grian kneeled back down by the Prince, before dipping a finger into the jar and bringing it to the royal’s forehead. Prince Mumbo backed up, casting a quizzical eye towards Grian. Grian sighed. “Just trust me. This’ll make you feel better.” Mumbo sighed before he closed his eyes and put his full trust into Grian, and Grian continued with what he was doing, drawing a small sigil onto the royal's forehead. The oil had just begun to drip down the man’s face when it sank into his skin, a faint purple glow appearing and disappearing in seconds. The cat stood up, stretched, and walked off. Mumbo slowly blinked his eyes open and looked at Grian. 

“How did you do that?” Mumbo gasped out. The pain that had been previously throbbing in his forehead was almost completely gone, an echo of the pain barely existing. Grian smiled, eyes twinkling in the early morning sun. 

“It's just some magick, uhh, simple magick really. Not too complicated if you know what to use. Some lemon balm tea for healing, and some lavender oil for the sigil of healing on your head. It should help reduce the swelling and bruising in a few minutes” Grian chuckled a bit. Mumbo still seemed to be in shock a bit, staring Grian down, seemingly studying every last feature, before he finally noticed the light blue, turning white wings attached to the fae’s back. 

“How do you have wings?!” Mumbo seemingly freaked out and jumped to his feet, leaving Grian kneeling on the stone path by himself. 

“How have you not noticed them? I can't exactly hide them, but to answer your question, I’m half-fae! You know, uh, like a fairy!” Grian laughed, fluttering his wings a little. “They’re a tad useless, I can’t really fly, but they look quite cool, don’t they?” Mumbo stared at him, eyes widening as he realized what Grian had said earlier when describing what he had done to help Mumbo. In reality, Mumbo should have known, based on the insanity that he had just witnessed in the few short moments of him being conscious. Hell, before he was even knocked unconscious he witnessed things that cannot be explained by anything other than magick. 

“You’re MAGICK?!” Mumbo yelped, years of his father telling him of the evils of magick rushing into his brain. Remembering the golden mark that tainted his skin, he ripped his sleeve up, revealing the mark, which had gone from a golden tint to a scar, etched into his skin with fine, white lines. Mumbo’s face went white, and his hands shook. “I-I’m sorry, I need to go, I-I need to get ho-” 

“Please don’t!” Grian shot up and grabbed the royal’s hands, bringing them up to his own chest. 

Some of the color returned to Mumbo’s face upon seeing the tears gathering in the Fae’s eyes. “Oh, please don’t cry! I never know what to do when other people cry.” That remark alone made Grian laugh a little, wiping the single tear. Grian dropped Mumbo’s hands, but Mumbo grabbed them back, holding them at hip height. 

“Oh! I’ve just realized that you don’t know my name! I’m Grian, Grian Wichtlein!” A rosy blush appeared on the Prince’s face upon learning the Fae's name. 

“Well, Mr. Grian, I must leave. But do know that I will be back, although I do not know when.” Mumbo dropped Grian’s hand, brushing some dirt off of the front of his suit from his earlier face plant into the ground. 

“Why though? The sun has just begun to rise. Surely you could stay for a few minutes more at least.” A small blush appeared on the Fae’s face, and Grian and Mumbo looked towards the rising sun, the entire garden now encased in golden light. 

“I know, but my father is surely getting suspicious of my absence now, and I have some research to do about what has happened today, and what to do now that I know magick is a real thing and not stories my father scared me with when I was young.” Grian nodded in understanding. His last trip into town existed of overhearing a conversation about magick and its evils, and even though Grian was hiding in a cart, he heard it all. 

“Well, okay then, I guess. Do you need help getting out of the forest?” Mumbo sheepishly nodded. “Okay, uhm, wait right here!” Grian ran back into the cottage before returning a few moments later with a purple fruit of some kind. 

“Here, it’s wizard fruit! Just think about where you want to go and then take a bite, and it’ll get you there! It only works once per fruit though, so you can eat the rest afterwards if you want.” Mumbo raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious! Try it!” Mumbo focused on the thought of returning to the line of fruit trees just around his family’s castle, and sunk his teeth into the tender fruit. The last thing he heard before warping away was Grian stuttering out a “Goo-goodbye, Prince Mumbo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! The two have finally met each other :P


	4. Chapter 3

Mumbo stumbled back a bit, the purple fruit in his hand now leaking a thick juice that dripped onto the ground. Mumbo quizzically looked at the fruit, quirking an eyebrow as he tried to fathom how the hell he had just done that, but resided to just never know. Magick was, after all, magick. Mumbo licked the back of his teeth, some of the fruit’s soft skin sticking there, but after deciding that this fruit tasted good enough to make up for his lack of dinner the previous night, Mumbo finished the fruit, choosing to sit on the ground by one of the fruit trees. Mumbo sat there for what felt like a few minutes, but was most likely almost an hour.

Mumbo mostly thought over what had just happened, still processing all the things that had just run through his head. Magick… was real. Somehow. Mumbo certainly didn’t know, but the golden glow that he saw going down his own throat and the purple light he saw faintly through his eyelids didn’t have any scientific explanation anyways, so it would be less headache to just accept magick as fact. Second thing to think about, what now? Surely, Mumbo couldn’t be showing off any magick around his family, especially not his father. Those years of ‘magick is evil’ were pressed into his brain, and surely his father would not bear to see his son become a witch. Mumbo didn't even know if he could do magick, but based on what he had been told, magick was a part of him since the celebration where he was cursed. Mumbo sighed and put his face down into his palms, regretting the decision to disobey his father and go into the forest.

“Prince Mumbo? Is that you?” Ren shouted as he quickly approached the fruit trees. Mumbo’s head shot up towards the sound before nodding, accepting the guard’s hand to help him stand up. “Prince Mumbo, what are you doing out here? I've been searching for you for quite some time now, but I guess I didn’t think to look outside.” Ren pretended to wipe some sweat from his forehead, insinuating that he was the only one looking instead of the probable five other guards that were looking as well. 

“Yeah, I just… needed to get my mind off of things, you know? Father always took me to shoot at these trees in archery practice before deciding that a Prince like me doesn’t need to know such a skill. He stuck to teaching only Iskall that.”

“Well, speaking of parents, the Queen wishes to see you. She is waiting in the gardens for your arrival,” Ren said as he began to lead Mumbo towards the royal gardens. The gardens weren’t that far away, and now Mumbo couldn’t help but compare the castle’s garden to Grian’s. Mumbo much preferred Grian’s, as it had much more personality than the straight rows of white and red roses, all perfectly in a checkerboard pattern across the entire area of the garden. Grian’s garden was full of life, mismatched plants for all of Grian’s needs and he didn’t need to worry about aesthetics, as the natural vegetation did that for itself. The roses in the royal gardens were purely for aesthetics, only to be picked for preservation and decorations around the castle. 

-

“Grian, what have you done?” Scar sighed as the blond laid on the wooden floor of his cottage, hair splayed on the planks as he stared into the ceiling.

“I helped someone in the only way I know how,” Grian huffed out, not looking to argue today. The day was fresh and Grian had lots to do in his garden today, and frankly didn’t have the time to be overthinking like what he was doing now, but alas, his brain persisted upon it. “We’ll be fine, Scar. He’s not going to tell anyone.”

“How do you know that?”

“I asked my pendulum if I could trust him while I was making his tea. It said yes, and the pendulum never lies.” Scar huffed. 

“Fine, I guess. I’m still going to keep my guard up around him though.” Grian shrugged, still staring at the ceiling. Scar smirked. “What are you thinking about, Grian?”

“Taurtis,” Grian whispered, his eyes looking anywhere but his friend's face. Scar gasped.

“Oh, I thought we were done with this! Grian, what is it now? You can tell me anything.” Scar swiftly sat down by Grian’s side, pulling Grian’s hand into his own. Scar's leg braces creaked at the sudden movement. 

“The Prince reminds me of him. They’re both so… tall. And that stubble looked absolutely amazing on him, did you see his stubble? I can tell he’s young, he can’t even grow a full mustache yet!” Grian chuckled quietly, his hand squeezing Scar's slightly. Scar frowned. 

“Grian, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for y-”

“I know, I know,” Grian cut off Scar and looked into the other’s eyes. “I’m over the death, I think, It has been about 2 years now, I just miss him. I know what he did was wrong, but I feel like it was my fault, you know?” 

“Grian, it was most certainly NOT your fault. It’s not your fault that your older brother you never met was killed, it’s not your fault you got close enough to Taurtis to tell him that, and it’s certainly not your fault that he tried taking revenge on the guard that killed your brother!” 

“It is my fault that I couldn’t save him, and I couldn't even tell him that the guard had already been killed by my mom. He turned into a different person, he had bloodlust. I just shouldn't have told him in the first place. If I had studied harder, I could have done something, anything to save him. He died holding my hand, Scar, and I’m over that, but I know that if I tried harder, if I had practiced more, I could have saved him. I loved him, and seeing the Prince, god, it brought back so many memories. They don't even look the same!” Grian's face tensed up, and Scar brushed his thumb under Grian’s eye, which made Grian realize that he was crying. 

“Grian, only witches who have been practicing for decades could cast a spell strong enough to save someone from critical condition. When we found him, Grian, he was already almost dead. The best thing for him was seeing you one last time, and you know that.” Scar pulled Grian up into a hug, rubbing comforting circles into the back of Grian’s head. “You said that Mumbo reminded you of him because why? He’s tall?”

“I know what you’re doing. But yes, it’s because he’s tall.” Grian pulled back from the hug. “I mean, seriously Scar, did you SEE him? He’s like a whole head taller than me!”

“Grian, everybody is a whole head taller than you, I think the only person who isn’t is Stress, and that’s because she’s fae.”

“Yeah, I do wish she was a fairy and not a pixie, though, then I might be able to fly. I can’t figure it out, I have no teacher!” Grian fluttered his wings a bit, the white feathers shifting into a nice light blue under light. Grian glanced out the open door at the spot where the Prince had sat not even a half-hour ago. He sighed. Scar stared at Grian, a look of concern on his face, knowing what was going through his witchy friend’s head. 

“Hang on Grian, I have just the thing for you,” Scar said as he ran out of the cottage, leaving Grian puzzled as he sat on the floor of his home alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tysm to @olliebrobecks with the immense help on plotting ! ILY bb <3 (also yes I know that fairies typically don't have feathered wings but butterfly wings just don't seem to fit with Grian's personality soooo yeah! )


	5. Chapter 4

Mumbo smiled as he saw his mother open her arms towards him, beckoning him in for a hug. Mumbo gladly returned the motion, embracing his mother as she hugged him tightly and mussed up his hair. Mumbo smirked as he fixed his raven hair back to the original smoothed back style, grinning at his mother’s soft laugh.

“Oh, my dear Mumbo, how have you been? You went to bed early last night, you aren’t sick, right?” The Queen’s eyebrows were knit together in concern, as she pressed the back of her hand to her son’s forehead. Mumbo chuckled and removed his mother’s hand.

“I’m fine, I was just really tired and then I needed some fresh air. I ate some cherries from one of the trees for breakfast this morning, I hope that was okay.”

“Oh Mumbo, that is more than okay. I swear you act like a guest in your own home sometimes, you have ever since you were little. I have a feeling why, too.” She glanced up towards a large window, the thick glass the only thing separating them from the king’s office. Mumbo’s mouth slid from a smile into a slight frown, seeing the pain break through his mother’s eyes. Although she didn’t say it out loud, Mumbo knew that she was married for peace between kingdoms and not for love. From what he had read, he understood that his mother was once a peasant, although a very beautiful one, who was taken in by the queen of her old home and adopted into the royal family. She was forced to marry a prince from a neighboring kingdom to keep war efforts at a minimum between the two. 

“Well, I’m not going to say that you’re wrong about that. Father can be a little… intense,” Mumbo muttered. The Queen’s eyebrows furrowed and she pursed her lips, but as she was about to speak, her youngest son, Xisuma, walked into the garden, the gray oxygen mask on his face reflecting the sunlight onto the ground by Mumbo’s feet. Xisuma smirked and moved his head to position the reflection into his brother’s eyes, laughing at the cursing the older produced as he rubbed his eyes, trying to get the invading light to un-imprint itself from his vision. 

“Xisuma…” the Queen warned him, but Xisuma just laughed before sitting on the ground by his mother’s feet, sighing in content as she ran her fingers through his fluffy brown hair. The three of them were in peace, Mumbo leaning onto his mother’s shoulders and Xisuma leaning back onto her legs. The Queen released one of her hands from her youngest son’s head and brought it to Mumbo’s hair, carding her fingers through the hair on the side of his head, pulling his head closer to her chest. Their peaceful moment was interrupted by someone nearby clearing their throat. Mumbo opened his eyes and saw General False, the leader of the royal guard, beckoning Xisuma.

“Come, Prince Xisuma. It is time for more of your self-defense lessons,” False said while holding out her hand towards Xisuma. He sighed and took her hand as she hauled him up to his feet, before quickly whisking him away to begin more defense lessons. Mumbo waited for the two to be out of hearing range to talk to his mother again.

“Mother, what is the truth of the curse?” The Queen’s back straightened as her eyes widened. She quickly deflated and sighed out. 

“I suppose it is time you are told the whole truth, I know you’ve been only told lies.” She once again glanced at the window. She sighed and ran her fingers over her scalp, pulling her hair back from where it had loosened. “Well, a few days after your birth, your father and I decided to have a party, similar to what we had done for Iskall, but on a smaller scale. You had surprised us, you came much earlier than we were expecting. A few years prior, your father had ordered a small boy to be killed, as he was of magick descent, but he kept the mother of this boy alive and forced her to watch her only son’s death. She cried over his body for hours in the kingdom’s square. People were ridiculing her, throwing stuff at her, trying to light her on fire even, but she used her magick to defend herself and her son’s body. The last thing she said before dissolving in mid-air was that she would be back, and she would make us pay for what we had done. Your father and I, we shrugged it off. Royals do tend to have quite good security. It wasn’t enough.

“The day of your party, we heard this loud explosion, she had killed the man who killed her son with a large bomb, it filled the whole corridor with sulfur, my eyes burned for days. That woman… she used the explosion to get to you, she distracted us. She dropped her dead son’s blood into your mouth, and whispered an enchantment onto you, adding that golden pentagram to your wrist. She said that you would become magick one day, and that we would have no choice but to… kill you.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “I told your father that the magick banning laws are stupid, and if I could remove them myself, I would, but I’m just the Queen, and I need the King’s permission to change laws, even if those laws have killed innocent children. I know that he’s just trying to protect you, from possibly becoming magick, but he shouldn’t even care in the first place. Magickal people are innocent, and they haven’t committed any crimes in over three hundred years.”

Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck. “Uhm, about the thing on my wrist,” he glanced at his mother and she glanced at him, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity, “it’s changed.”

“What do you mean it’s changed? Let me see.” Mumbo placed his wrist in his mother’s outstretched hand and she pulled back his sleeve, revealing the scarred pentagram that was once a golden shine.

“What happened?” She brought his wrist closer to her face. 

“I don’t know,” Mumbo lied through his teeth. His mother flashed a look at him, knowing that he was lying, but luckily not pressing further.

“Well, I have one piece of advice. Don’t show that to your father.” The Queen stood up and smoothed her skirt. “I have to go now, I have a meeting with some of the maids about clothing choices for Xisuma’s birthday. He’s almost sixteen, ha, I barely even remember back when I was sixteen. I’ll see you later, my son.” 

She walked away while ever so slightly hiking up her skirt, leaving Mumbo in a confused haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a ref for how Grian looks, btw! He's very much a cottage core boi, and yes that is my own drawing :P https://tesutato.tumblr.com/post/619297831011926016/a-ref-for-my-grian-design-p


	6. Chapter 5

“Hey Grian, I’m back!” Scar said as he ran back into the stone cottage, clutching a small bottle with an amber-colored bubbling liquid, filled to the brim. Grian cocked an eyebrow at him, still sat on the floor, but this time with a small hedgehog on the ground next to him. “Oh, hi Stress,” Scar waved at the hedgehog, knowing it was his pixie friend before sitting on the ground across from Grian. “I brought a potion for you, and hopefully, it’ll help!”

Grian pulled the potion bottle from his friend’s hand, eyeing it suspiciously as he lifted towards the light to get a better look at the color. “What is this? It looks an awful lot like ginger tea.” Grian glared down at Scar. Scar was flushed and looking away, a blush signaling that Grian had it right on the nose. Grian looked again at the bottle, now noticing the two pieces of black cloth that were settled at the bottom, one appearing to be a cord of some kind. Grian snarled. “Seriously, dude?! I’m not going to drink this!” Grian set the bottle on the ground and slid it towards Scar, a look of betrayal on his face. 

“Grian, you need to drink it. It’s the only way to get rid of your feelings for the Prince. I know you have more than physical attraction, that look in your eyes is just like the look you had when Taurtis asked you to be his boyfriend! The Prince is going to hurt you, just like his guards killed Taurtis! I can’t let you die, Grian!” Scar spat, causing Grian to flinch backward and the small hedgehog to morph into a girl with short brown hair. 

“Woah Scar, that’s too far,” the girl spoke, her voice strong despite being so small, even smaller than Grian was. One of her hands was held out loosely in front of her, signaling Scar to slow down and think about what he had just said, while the other held the hand of Grian, who was slightly shaking. Ever since Grian had learned of the fate of his brother and his mother, both of which he had never met, he had been terrified of dying. Just the thought of what death was like could send him into a panic attack. Grian knew he was an empath, and although he was a weak one, he still remembers the grief his mother held while he was in her womb, then one day the sadness went silent, and that was the day his mother died. He had been kept in a custom made incubator, to let him develop to be strong enough and let his body filter out the immense grief that no infant should endure, but his body could not filter all of it. He felt years of grief and guilt that he did not witness, or was even alive for, for the first decade of his life until he was strong enough to push it down. The grief of death and loss was something that Grian didn’t want to wish on anyone, and so he wanted to stay alive longer than everyone he knew, as to not let them have grief over his own death. Grian was brought out of his thought haze with a soft clicking by his ear, Stress trying desperately to distract him from his own mind. 

The clicking continued but Grian could hear the edges of an argument, hearing words like ‘look what you’ve done’ and ‘this is all that damn Prince’s fault’, but everything seemed to blend together. Eventually, Grian was snapped from his stupor by his cottage door being slammed, and Stress lightly rubbing her hand on his arm. 

“It’s okay, he’s gone now. Took that stupid potion with him, too.” Grian looked up and, sure enough, the bottle was gone, but so was Scar. Grian breathed a sigh of relief before finally letting the tears fall, coating his cheeks as Stress pulled him into a tight hug, an embrace so tight she ended up in his lap just so he could hug her tighter. They stayed like that for what must have been twenty minutes, Stress waiting for Grian’s sobs to quiet before speaking.

“Do you want to bake something? I know baking helps get your mind off of things,” Stress barely whispered, making sure not to startle her friend. He nodded, slowly releasing his hands from her sides as she wiped the tears from his face. “Come on then, I have this amazing recipe for some chamomile sugar rolls, and I think you’ll love them!” Stress giggled and popped up off of her friend, running into the small garden to gather enough chamomile for the rolls. 

The two worked in tandem, pulling ingredients out of the cabinets and Grian’s icebox, whipping together some simple chamomile milk, batter, and sweet icing. Grian giggled when Stress mixed the flour into the batter a bit too rough, and flour came out and speckled her face, making her sneeze. Grian steeped the chamomile into the warm milk, sipping it from a spoon to make sure it tasted correct. Stress pulled out a large baking pan that had small divots for the batter, the batter being too runny to shape by hand but more solid than a straight liquid. As Grian placed the baking pan into his wood stove oven, Stress started mixing sugar, milk, and vanilla together, making enough sugary icing to coat the rolls. 

Soon enough, the rolls were out of the oven, and Grian popped them out of the pan as Stress hovered the icing spoon, waiting to drown the fluffy rolls in icing. Eventually, all the rolls were covered in icing, and half were quickly scarfed down by Stress and Grian, enjoying the rolls with every fiber of their being. 

Ultimately, the sun began to set, and Stress had to head back to her own cabin, taking half of the remaining rolls with her. As soon as she was gone, Grian began to overthink, but quickly got himself completely rearranging his small cottage, the entirety of the home being upturned in less than a half-hour as Grian searched his brain for some ideas on how to completely redo the interior. He pushed his large bed across the wooden floor, praying for no scratches, and completely rearranged his crystal collection, sorting them in rainbow order instead of alphabetical like Scar had suggested. 

The sun was close to rising when Grian finally fell asleep, huddled in a large bundle of deep green blankets as the bags under his eyes slowly disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoy! I'm starting my job next week, so updates may slow down, but in my free time and to de-stress I'm building all the buildings in a creative world, so if y'all wanna see that world, let me know! TY for reading!


	7. Chapter 6

“Hey Mumbo,” Xisuma whispered from the doorway. The older Prince, who was on his bed studying from a textbook, glanced up in hello with a small smile on his face, doing a double-take upon seeing the large bruise on his brother’s forehead.

“Xisuma, what did you do?” Mumbo instantly shut his redstone textbook, favoring caring for his brother over his teachings. Xisuma’s eyes cast towards the ground, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Uhm, well, when False was training me, I tripped. I tried to catch myself, but instead, I kneed my own forehead.” Mumbo visibly winced, Xisuma pursing his lips and nodding. 

“My head hurts,” Xisuma said before flopping onto his brother’s bed, groaning a bit as his head hit the textbook instead of the pillow right next to it. As his brother continued to groan, Mumbo thought back to how Grian had helped him with a very similar ailment just the day before, and although he didn’t exactly remember what happened, he surely could try. 

“Hey X, come here. I’m gonna try something.” Mumbo sat on the floor in a cross-legged position, beckoning his brother to come and do what he was doing. Xisuma quirked an eyebrow before joining Mumbo on the floor. “Can you close your eyes for me?”

“Mumbo, what are you doing? It’s just a bru-”

“Just trust me,” Mumbo said, staring into his brother’s eyes. Xisuma dutifully nodded, slowly closing his eyes but tensing his shoulder. Mumbo brought his thumb up to his brother’s forehead, slowly tracing the pattern that had been traced onto him, trying to remember all the curves and lines of the symbol, the whole time thinking ‘oh god I hope I’m doing this right.’

As he finished, he pulled his hand away, and almost instantly his brother brought his hand to the bruise, cursing quietly. Mumbo’s eyes widened, knowing that he screwed it up.

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you did, but it hurts **more** now.” Xisuma stood up, and Mumbo panicked.  


“Xisuma, wait!”

********

********

********

********

“No dude, you’ve done enough!” Xisuma slammed the door to his brother’s room, and Mumbo heard him trudge down the hallway. Mumbo dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes before remembering that Grian could help him. After all, he had that weird golden tea, surely Mumbo could get some stuff from Grian and bring it back for Xisuma? Mumbo was ready to trudge his way back out into the forest, before realizing that the sun was up and he wasn’t able to get into the woods at this time of day. He pondered for a bit, pacing his room. Surely, he couldn’t wait until nightfall, he felt guilty now, and he had to take action now. 

He suddenly stopped walking. ‘Wait, what am I doing? I just did magick, on my brother none-the-less!’ he thought. His breathing picked up the pace, realizing that while what he just did was obviously magick, it didn’t show in a physical glow. Maybe, if Mumbo could find the cottage again, he could ask Grian if there was some kind of discreet healing magick, no fancy lights or strange substance like whatever Grian had put on Mumbo’s forehead. ‘Yes, that must work! But… how do I sneak into the forest? It’s midday, surely I can’t just walk into the forest like I did last time.’ 

After pacing for almost another ten minutes and racking his brain for ideas, he stopped. ‘I could sneak out dressed as a kitchen servant. Perfect! They haven’t seen my face since I was a child. Hopefully, the head chef or some of the servants who deliver the food to our dining room aren’t down there right now.' 

With that idea, Mumbo began his descent into the kitchen, stopping by the massive laundry room in the middle of his trek to change into a basic kitchen uniform. The pants were too short and showed off his ankles, and the top was a tad too tight, but it would have to do. As he hurried out of the room, he grabbed a hat and pulled it on top of his jet black hair, attempting to hide his very noticeable hair. As he reached the kitchen, which he knew held a back exit, he began to hunch and walk slower, taking some of the edge out of his stance and making himself appear shorter, attempting to blend in. Slowly, servants began to fill the space around him, casting him strange looks but never saying anything to him. ‘Perhaps they think I’m new?’ 

Mumbo slowly made his way to the back of the kitchen, and he started sweating instantly due to the intense heat that radiated the area. It could only be described as a literal wall of heat, humidity weighing down Mumbo’s lungs. Mumbo quickly made his way to the back of the kitchen, the exit door in his sight, before he bumped into someone, both of them being knocked to the floor. Mumbo brought a hand to his nose, rubbing it from the impact that had happened against someone’s forehead. When he looked up, he saw none other than the head chef staring him in the eyes, a surprised expression written on his face. 

“Prince Mumbo?” the chef whispered. Mumbo panicked and his hands flew to cover the head chef’s mouth. Mumbo worriedly looked around, but when he saw no one in earshot, he let out a sigh of relief and removed his hands from the head chef’s face. 

“Chef Beef, I need you to stay quiet about what you just saw. You cannot mention this to anybody. If you do, I will know and there will be consequences.” Mumbo’s eyebrows dropped as he tried to give off an intimidating aura. 

“I wasn’t going to stop you. It isn’t my place to interrupt… whatever you’re doing. Just keep your head low. I honestly didn’t recognize you until I looked you dead on. Just go, and nobody will notice you.” 

“Thank you Chef Beef. This won’t be forgotten, I’m very thankful.” Mumbo stood up from the ground and offered a hand to the chef, who hesitantly took it and stood up. The chef waved a small salute to the Prince before walking away, immediately going back to preparing a thick steak for the King’s lunch. Mumbo’s mouth watered a bit before he trudged onward, and out the wooden door that separated the kitchen from the gardens. These gardens were busier than the royal rose gardens, but still more organized than Grian’s garden. ‘Well, this garden does need to feed tons of people, and Grian’s only needs to feed a few,’ Mumbo thought. He walked down the middle passage of the garden, which led directly to the fruit trees, and subsequently, the open forest right behind. 

Mumbo took a deep breath and walked once again into the forest he’d been prevented from going into his whole life. 

\- 

Grian was sitting in his newly redone cottage when a hesitant knock came from the doorway. This worried Grian, as the only people who knew where his cottage was were his closest friends, who never knocked, and Prince Mumbo. ‘He’s a Prince, though. Surely he wouldn’t come back to my cottage.’ 

Grian grabbed his wand from the altar that sat under one of the large windows, readying himself for an attack of some kind. He pulled the door towards him, wand at the ready before he dropped it. 

“Prince Mumbo?” Grian had a quizzical look on his face and the royal waved sheepishly, and Grian couldn’t help but notice the clothes that he was dressed in. They were nothing like the suit he wore previously, simple light colors usually worn by servants, completely different from the stark black suit. 

“Grian, I need your help. I… kinda hurt my brother while I was trying to use magick. I don’t know what I did, but I made his headache worse than it was before. I tried to copy what you did to make my headache go away, but it didn’t work. Do you have anything I can use to help him?” Mumbo was speaking so fast Grian could hardly understand him. 

“Okay, so you need a healing potion?” Mumbo nodded furiously, and Grian stood to the side, inviting Mumbo into his cottage. Mumbo hesitantly walked into the cottage, and wonder lit up his eyes as he saw the interior for the first time. Simple cobblestone walls were accompanied by large windows of white stained glass. Underneath each of the windows stood hundreds of crystals, all different shapes and sizes, but the rainbow wasn’t interrupted as the colors wrapped around the room. Two doors split off from the main room, which Mumbo assumed were the washroom and Grian’s bedroom, as he didn’t see anything to imply that both were in the main room. Bookcases full of leather-bound books wrapped the walls, some serving as places for crystals to sit on. Almost every book was obviously used, some of the bindings falling off and threads popping from the leather. In the far left corner stood a stone hearth, the heavenly scent of bread warming the air around him. Mumbo couldn’t help but compare it to the humid kitchen he had been in a little while ago. He much preferred this. 

While Mumbo was admiring the cottage, Grian had gone and begun digging through a cupboard by the hearth after he sat his wand back onto his altar. 

“What does your brother like?” Grian asked over his shoulder. 

“What?” Mumbo was broken from his stupor, looking over at the witch. 

“Like, what does he like? Tea, lemonade? Does he really care?” 

“I mean, not really. As long as it doesn’t have any flashy colors, it should be fine. He doesn’t know about magick” Mumbo attempted to shove his hands into his pants pockets before realizing that the pants he was wearing didn’t have any pockets. 

“Okay… it’ll have to be a weaker potion then. The lights are kind of tied to how strong the potion is; the stronger the light, the stronger the potion.” Grian brought his head out of the cupboard, blew some hair out of his face, and went out to his garden, searching for his lavender plant. It was horribly overgrown, as was the rest of his garden. His garden really needed pruning. He spotted his lavender plant and snatched a small handful of flowers from it. “I’m going to be making a lavender lemonade. It’s a little weaker, and it tastes just like lemonade, but it’s purple.” Grian walked over to his fruit bowl and pulled out the last two lemons, cursing under his breath. “I’ll need more lemons shortly. Anyways!” 

Grian pulled out a ceramic bowl, threw the lavender into it, and set the bowl into his hearth, stoking the existing fire that was baking the three loaves of bread that were already in the hearth. As he waited for the lavender to be dried, he pulled out the ceramic juicer from the same cupboard he had received the bowl from. 

“Prince Mumbo, do you wanna help?” Mumbo nodded and walked over as Grian sliced the lemons in two. “I just need you to juice these lemons. I usually have someone else help me with this juicer, I desperately need a new one.” Grian handed the lemons to Mumbo, who started juicing and instantly realized why Grian wanted a new juicer. The ceramic had been worn down and it took a lot of pressure to get the juice out of the lemons. He grunted and Grian giggled at his expense. 

The two worked in sync, Mumbo heavily struggling with the juicer while Grian gathered up the sugar, water, and worked on drying out the lavender. One of the times that Grian checked on the lavender, he realized that the bread was done, and he grabbed an oven mitt to take them out of the hearth. He sighed at the rich smell of freshly baked bread that permeated the area, and Mumbo inhaled deeply at the heavenly scent. 

“You want some? I haven’t had breakfast yet today, I was gonna have some jelly bread.” Grian slid one of the loaves out of the pan and flipped it upside down, cutting off a slice of it effortlessly. He threw the butt end of the loaf into a tin bucket that he had instructed Mumbo to place the juiced lemons in and sliced off a piece of bread before handing it to Mumbo. Mumbo almost refused, holding his hand up as if to say ‘no thank you’, but his stomach betrayed his brain and grumbled loudly. Grian laughed and carefully placed the warm piece of bread into Mumbo’s hand. With his own slice in hand, Grian walked over to his icebox and pulled out a small jar with a red jelly in it. He walked back over to where the juicer sat on the counter and pulled a dull knife from a drawer, and smeared some of the red jelly onto the slice before biting down. A sigh of content slipped from his throat, and Mumbo blushed at the sound, casting his eyes down at his own piece of bread. 

The jelly jar appeared in his vision, the knife standing in the jar, and Mumbo looked up to Grian’s face, a look in his eyes that allowed Mumbo to take the jar. Mumbo grabbed the jar and spread some jelly onto his bread, and he finally took a bite. 

He was in heaven. The crust wasn’t too hard, and the jelly perfectly accented the taste that Mumbo could only describe as love and a sense of longing, a similar feeling to when he saw the cottage for the first time. The jelly was cold and the bread was warm, the contrast was one of the best things Mumbo had ever tasted, and he was raised on royal food. 

As Grian finished his piece, he checked on the lavender and saw that the flowers were sufficiently dried. He grabbed the oven mitt again, and carefully removed the ceramic bowl from the hearth, making sure that the flowers were still intact. He stuck the bowl into his icebox and took off the mitts. He grabbed a ceramic tumbler from under the wooden sink, and poured the lemon juice from the juicer into it, adding two spoons of sugar for flavor. He put the lid on and shook the tumbler while grabbing the bowl out of the icebox, and Mumbo couldn’t help but notice the faint red light around the witch’s hand. He assumed it was some sort of heat resistance, to protect against the ceramic bowl that definitely wasn’t cool enough for human hands to handle safely. 

Grian opened up the tumbler and added the lavender flowers. He added the bowl of water he had set aside before, replaced the lid, and shook the tumbler again. Grian handed the tumbler to Mumbo, who had just finished his jelly bread. 

“Here you go, Prince Mumbo. This should be discreet enough for your brother to not notice that it’s magick,” Grian said. His eyes cast down towards the wooden planks of his floor. “Ya know, typically witches are against using magick on… unwilling participants. I’ll make the exception for you, as long as you promise to let him know after he’s done drinking it.” 

“Grian, I can’t do that. My whole life my brothers and I have been raised to despise magick. I think if my father knew I was here, he’d kill me. There’s a reason why I’m dressed as a kitchen servant, I had to sneak out.” Mumbo let out an exasperated sigh and held the tumbler closer to his chest, afraid that the witch might take it back. 

“Wait, brothers? I thought you only had one,” Grian’s eyebrows were knit together, confusion coating his face. 

“No, I have two. Iskall, the one in line for the crown, and Xisuma, he’s a little over two years younger than me.” 

“That makes sense now. I wasn’t given any resources to learn from that were younger than I was,” Grian rubbed the back of his neck, a slight blush painting his cheeks. Mumbo looked at the witch inquisitively but decided to drop the topic. ‘What does he mean by that? He must have gone to school, it’s required in the kingdom, even if you are a peasant.’ 

“I have an idea. You can have the potion if I can stop calling you Prince. It takes a lot of time to say when I could be doing something else, like talking about something else!” Grian giggled a bit and his tongue stuck out a bit as he giggled. Mumbo almost swooned at the adorable sight. He shook his head. ‘No, Mumbo! No feelings for the peasant, he’s an outlaw!’ 

“I mean, I never expected you to call me that in the first place. This forest is my escape from the palace, I actually would rather not be called that,” Mumbo joined in with Grian’s giggling just as Grian stopped his laughter, eyes going wide. 

“Real-really? I was just joking, I was gonna give you the potion no matter what.” 

“Yeah, why not! I get called Prince enough, it really isn’t necessary here.” The two stood in awkwardness for a minute before Mumbo cleared his throat. 

“I should really get this to my brother, he’s still probably in pain and this should help him a lot. Thank you so much, Grian!” Mumbo walked towards the door he had come in, Grian following him. 

“It’s really no problem… Mumbo. Will I see you again?” Grian asked with a look of… worry? Sadness? Mumbo couldn’t tell. 

“I just might have to, Grian. I’ve already needed your help a single day after meeting you for the first time. I suspect I’ll be back sooner than you expect. Once again, thank you so, so much!” 

Grian waved goodbye to the royal as Mumbo began to walk his way back to the castle, mentally preparing himself for the half-hour walk in the stiff servant shoes. Just as Mumbo was about to pass over the steep hill that separated the cottage from the, he heard a shout from the cottage. 

“Mumbo, wait!” Grian came stumbling out of the cottage holding a simple chain with a crystal on it, and an old leather-bound book. “Here, maybe this can help you with your magick so that you don’t hurt your brother again!” Mumbo looked at the book with worry. “Oh, don’t worry Mumbo! It’s just a beginner’s grimoire, actually the one I used when I was younger!” Grian smiled, and Mumbo swore the forest lit up a little more. 

“Thank you, so much Grian. Ya know what, come here.” Mumbo set the tumbler on the ground and jumped down the three feet to where Grian was standing and immediately wrapped the witch into a tight embrace. Grian tensed for a second before relaxing into the hug, tightening his arms around Mumbo’s waist. After a few minutes, they broke apart, both a little blushy. Grian’s face lit up as he remembered something. 

“Oh yeah, take this, too!” He handed the chain with the small crystal on it to Mumbo. “It’s a piece of smokey quartz, for protection! This might help you keep all this magick our little secret.” Grian over-accentuated a wink towards the royal, who blushed harder as he slipped the chain around his neck. “Don’t forget the potion and the grimoire, I promise that the grimoire will really help. Maybe one day, you might be on par with me!” Grian stuck his tongue out Mumbo. Mumbo smiled at the witch, noticing the sparse freckles that decorated his cheeks. 

“Well, I’ll certainly try. I should get going before my parents find out I’m missing. I’ll see you again soon, Grian!” 

Mumbo scaled the steep drop again, this time leaving for good as Grian sat on the ground, love in his eyes and a gray cat on top of his cottage, having watched the whole interaction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, much longer chapter and a much longer wait. Sorry y'all! I kinda had to go into quarantine bc guess who was exposed to covid!!1! Yay!!1! >:(


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